


Nothing to Show

by fallinginlike



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Angst, Break Up, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Dissociation, Post-Canon, Small Amounts of Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-04-23 21:11:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19159060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallinginlike/pseuds/fallinginlike
Summary: It was not their first fight. But it had never been like this before.(In which things fall apart and Andrew tries not to do the same)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered." - Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead

Andrew didn’t know how long had passed by the time he finally heaved himself off the ledge, but the sky had smudged purple and his knees creaked in warning. He couldn’t hear much over the echo of the roof door thudding shut, probably for the last time.

It was not their first fight. But it had never been like this before.

This wasn’t a disagreement about exy or who drank the last of the coffee and didn’t replace it. This was Andrew telling Neil to leave. No. It was Andrew telling Nathaniel to leave and Andrew could see it in his eyes that Nathaniel finally understood why Andrew has always been so afraid of falling.

Even though Neil had softened his edges, Andrew still didn’t feel regret. It wasn’t something he had grown out of, like lisp from when he lost his front teeth as a child, but rather something that had been carved out of him and stolen. Maybe it was this hollow part of him that ached now, made him feel like he had been scraped clean.

Unlocking the door to his dorm, Andrew wasn't sure if he was surprised or not to find it empty. Kevin was still at the court lecturing the freshmen, Nicky had gone off to hand in an overdue assignment that he had forgotten about, Aaron was likely off in the library with Katelyn, and Neil? Andrew swallowed down the tiny bead of disappointment that had somehow formed in his throat. Who knew where the runner had disappeared to.

 _It is better this way,_ he insisted to himself, tugging on a pair of jeans and a clean shirt.

 _We are better apart,_ he repeated as they sped towards the glittering lights of Columbia, ignoring Kevin’s frequent glances from where he sat, for once, in the passenger seat.

 _We were never together anyway,_ he thought as he transferred their glasses onto the sticky table and distributed the drinks amongst the four of them.

When Aaron and Nicky disappeared into the crowd of dancers, Andrew was feeling more certain. By the time they stumbled back, he concluded that this time, he had made the right decision.

“You've been hogging all the drinks today,” Nicky pouted. He slouched into his chair and made grabby hands at the remaining shots.

“Shut. Up,” Andrew smacked away his hands causing Nicky to snatch them back.

“What the-" Aaron leaned across the table, looking closer and squinting, “are you- are you actually drunk?”

“I said shut up,” Andrew repeated. So what if the familiar thrum of alcohol was more insistent than other nights, he knew his limit. If he had been drinking more than usual- well. Kevin was being particularly annoying with his questioning eyes and restless fingers. He constantly opened his mouth then reevaluated and closed it again, working up the courage once to point out Andrew's distracted performance at practice, only to be silenced by a withering glare. Ignoring the sudden attention, Andrew threw back the closest shot and stalked over to the bar.

Roland was surrounded by a small crowd, but smirked and excused himself when he saw Andrew approach.

“Where's the boyfriend?”

“He's not,” Roland shrugged, by now he was used to Andrew's cold tone and general apathy towards all things related to his personal life.

“Fine then, where's your Neil?”

“He is not- was not my anything,” Andrew slammed their tray down to be refilled and watched Roland who blinked back, unimpressed. “And he will not, at any point in the future be anything.”

“Okay, okay, colour me convinced,” he lifted his hands briefly in mock surrender before returning to prepare drinks. Though he had trouble keeping his hands to himself sometimes, he had worked in a bar long enough to know a threat when he saw one and he knew when to leave Andrew alone. He winked as he placed the last of glasses on the tray. “If that's the case, I'll let you know that I'm going to be taking my break in ten.”

Oh.

Andrew may be a disaster, but he was not stupid. Still, his hands twitched, his body remembering all those nights of slipping off to the back room with Roland. He was nothing but a compilation of bad ideas pieced together anyway.

No.

Although he still found Roland to be attractive, he couldn't deny the way his stomach roiled at the thought of continuing their arrangement as if nothing had changed in the past couple of years. “Not tonight,” he heard himself say distantly before pushing his way back to where everyone was waiting.

The rest of the night and the drive home was a smear in Andrew's normally perfect memory. By some miracle, they managed to just barely make it back to the house, open the front door, and stagger onto their respective rooms, Kevin immediately crashing into the couch. Only after collapsing onto his bed and attempting to block out the digital numbers shining from his bedside clock that contort and blur, Andrew could admit that he hasn't been this far gone in a while. He rolled closer to the wall, nose pressing into his pillow and was ready to pass out when he froze in place. It smelled like exy. It smelled like Neil. His stomach twisted uncomfortably at the reminder of the striker, of their fight, of his absence.

Lurching to his feet, Andrew quickly stripped the sheets and replaced them, dumping the old ones in a pile to be washed later. The routine of trying to clear away someone else's scent from his bed was familiar in a way that left a bitter taste in his mouth. He wasn't the same boy as back then, terrified and defenseless. He would not let anyone take advantage of him again, he had vowed as much to himself the second his thoughts had cleared from the fog of euphoric mania for good.

Lying in his bed, dizzy, alone, and surrounded by the sharp, clean scent of detergent, Andrew felt absolutely nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things go downhill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mostly filler, i apologize. things start to get interesting at the end though...
> 
> it could also probably use more editing (my tenses were all over the place while i was writing), but i have no beta reader and i am tired of staring at this doc.
> 
> [edit: july 4, 2019] sorry for no real update! just did some minor edits to fix some things i missed. i wanted to go through this chapter and fix it up a tiny bit before i post the next one... which will likely be late because i'm going on vacation. sorry!

Andrew woke reaching for his knives.

This in itself was not overly unusual, but being able to actually grab them from his armbands was.

It had been a while since he had slept armed.

The abrupt motion of sitting up so quickly strengthened the pounding in his head. Squinting against the light and slowly sliding his knives back in place, he surveyed the mess that surrounded him. His past self had thankfully had at least enough sense to kick off his heavy boots, but hadn’t been bothered to change out of his clothes. Andrew grimaced, the smell of Eden’s was clearly evident and he reeked of booze and sweat. For some reason, it seemed he had drunkenly changed his sheets too. The dirty ones were haphazardly thrown into a corner of the room and the clean ones were both mismatched and sloppily tucked around the corners of his mattress.

Food, he decided, was more important than laundry. He would deal with it all when he was feeling a bit less like he hadn’t eaten or drank anything in days. He stripped, eager to replace the slightly sticky clothes he had slept in with a soft hoodie and sweatpants. He inwardly cursed his previous outfit of choice when the hopping and squirming required to peel out of his jeans and shirt caused the room to spin faster than his stomach appreciated. 

Andrew stared at his reflection when he reached the bathroom. Even in the poor lighting, the purple shadows under his eyes made it obvious that he had had a poor sleep. Scrubbing his face with cold water and brushing his teeth quickly helped sharpen his awareness and remove the taste in his mouth that had made it seem like something had crawled in there to die last night.

Unsurprisingly, he was the only one awake, even though it was close to 2 in the afternoon and the house was starting to become uncomfortably warm. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he could faintly hear Kevin’s even snores from his position sprawled on the couch, limbs dangling off the edges. He bypassed the unconscious striker, certain that nothing except exy practice or the world ending would be able to wake him. 

Heading straight for the coffee maker, Andrew scooped in a large spoonful of grounds and rummaged through the cupboards for the largest mug they owned. Although his hangover had nothing on the torture he used to endure, it had still been more than a year since he had woken up with a glaring headache and nausea squirming in his stomach.

Rooting around the fridge, Andrew unearthed what looked to be a partially petrified slice of pizza, almost empty bottles of unexpired frosted sugar cookie and creme brulee creamers, a just barely expired bottle of hazelnut creamer, and what probably looked to be some sort of moldy fruit bowl. Dumping the pizza and fruit into the garbage, he emptied the dregs of all three creamers into his mug and filled the remaining space with coffee. After taking a sip, he scooped in some sugar, took another sip, then added a generous amount of vodka. Just to ease the worst of his hangover, he told himself. Kevin groaned from the other room, possibly awoken by the sound of the vodka bottle opening, but didn’t seem to get up.

Sifting through the freezer revealed a box of chocolate chip waffles that Andrew ripped open and shoved into the toaster. After the allotted time, he loaded them onto a plate and retreated back into his room before Nicky, who he could hear shifting around in the bathroom, could approach him. 

What seemed like a minute later, he heard shuffling outside his room that he recognized to be Nicky, waffling between asking Andrew a question or giving him some space.

“Andrew?” he asked timidly, “when are we heading back to campus? It’s almost dinner and I heard Aaron say-”

“No.” Andrew grunted.

“-that he had someone he was meeting up with today or tomorrow. Like maybe in one hour?” Nicky continued, “I can drive if you want. Or we can leave-”

Andrew rolled over from where he had somehow ended up laying on his bed, staring blankly at the speckled ceiling, and chucked the first thing he touched in the general direction of the Nicky’s voice. Judging by the thud and muffled curse, he had aimed accurately.

“Okay well I’ll just let Aaron and Kevin know that you’re not in the mood and we’ll probably be back sometime tomorrow or something thanks okay sorry for bothering you okay bye,” he squeaked out, followed by the rapid thumps of his feet scrambling down the stairs.

“Andrew,” Kevin paused for a moment, and receiving no response, began to pound on the door. “Andrew, I thought we were going to court tonight. Nicky said that you’re not going to drive us back. Andrew, I know you’re in there, you can’t just ignore me.”

Andrew blinked up at the ceiling. There were seeping off-white lines that seemed to indicate past water damage. Maybe they should get it checked out.

“Andrew, what are you doing in there? Come on, we need to practice.”

“Walk, if you’re so desperate,” Andrew finally replied, “I will not take you.”

“Andrew.” This was Aaron now. He sounded bored. At some point Kevin must have given up, recognizing an exercise in futile. Andrew didn’t know how long ago that had been. He hadn't lost time like this in a while. It was more disorienting than he had remembered, the blur of time passing, how easy it was to sink into the darkness of his mind and let everything around him pass. “Nicky made food. It’s in the fridge.”

Andrew grunted in reply.

When he opened his eyes again, the light had drained from the room. He lurched off the bed, collecting the dishes he had used earlier in one hand and the sheets that had been piled up from the night before in the other. As he exited the room, he used a foot to nudge his laptop closed from where it sat beside his bed, a partially completed assignment still open.

Andrew shoved all the sheets into the laundry machine, emptied the basket of dirty clothes that sat on top of it in too, then poured a generous cap of detergent in. He clicked it on and continued down to the kitchen where he dumped the dirty dishes in the sink. The microwave pinged, and Andrew frowned at it. He hadn’t remembered turning it on, nor did he recall looking into the fridge and pulling out any food.

He pulled the plate out, hands wrapped in the sleeves of his hoodie to protect it from the heat. After grabbing a fork, he migrated back into the comfort of his room. Closing the door behind him, he was distracted by a blinking light, his phone displaying the time and that he had unread text messages. He set his food aside on his desk, sat cross-legged on his bed, and flipped open his phone. It was Neil.

Neil: Andrew [8:56 PM]  
Neil: never mind. [8:58 PM]

Andrew stared at the tiny words until they began to blur. His screen timed out, leaving him in the dark, still staring where he could see the phantom messages.

He pressed a key to read the message again, then exited before it had time to load. This was stupid. He turned his phone off and put it in his desk drawer. He ate his food. He slept, fitfully and then not at all. 

Eventually, he got up. Went to the bathroom to clean up, brought down his dishes, and ate some cereal. Someone, likely Nicky, must have transferred his laundry into the dryer when he had neglected to because they greeted him, folded into neat piles.

The day stretched by like taffy, slow and sticky, a sharp contrast to the day before which had felt like it finished before it even started. Andrew halfheartedly plugged through his remaining homework, studiously avoiding the other inhabitants of the house.

Somehow, by the time they were all piling into the Maserati to head back to campus, Andrew was exhausted. The thought of attending classes, surrounded by so many people, made his skin prickle.

They arrived back at the Fox Tower just before the sun began to set, and trudged up the stairs. Finally reaching their floor, Kevin stopped abruptly. Andrew just barely avoided reflexively shoved Nicky all the way back down for crashing into his back. Shouldering past him, Andrew saw his reason for pausing. Matt was leaning against their door, looking like he’d been waiting for a while. At the sight of them, then narrowed his eyes at Andrew.

“Where’s Neil?” He demanded.

What.

Ignoring him, Andrew continued walking to unlock their door. Matt reached out to grab his arm, then aborted the motion at the sight of the knife that appeared in his hand. Breezing past, Andrew let himself in and headed straight to his room. Distantly he heard Matt try again with Kevin, who seemed equally confused by the question.

Andrew dropped his duffel on his bed, then stopped. There was something distinctly off feeling about the room. Retracing his steps, he saw that a pair of running shoes were missing from their spot, a jacket hook that was empty, and the kitchen which looked untouched from when they had left on Friday. By now, Matt had moved on to Nicky. When he noticed Andrew had entered the room, he glared and paced closer.

“Did you leave Neil in Columbia?” He asked.

Andrew ignored him, once again entering his room. Matt and Nicky both followed this time, the latter spluttering in denial. The desks that they had pushed together long ago is the same mess as always, scrap paper and assignments spilling over the borders. Andrew recognized the worksheet that Neil was working on before they had left for practice on Friday. It’s partially filled in, half formulas and half doodles of fox paws and exy plays.

Andrew completely pulls out the drawers on Neil’s dresser. It’s an accident though. He wasn’t expecting them to be empty, save for a bright orange hoodie and everything he has ever worn to Eden’s.

His duffel was missing too.

By the time he has the safe that they still keep in the closet cracked open, he was not surprised to find the binder missing. 

But he was surprised by what they do find.

Neil’s wallet, tossed into one of the desk drawers. It has been emptied of money, but Andrew was thrown off when he flips it open and Neil’s face is staring back. It’s almost hard to recognize with the patchy dye job, smooth skin, and brown, hollow eyes. Andrew swallowed hard and moved on. When he climbed to Neil’s bunk, he felt his stomach drop at the sight of a familiar key ring resting on the pillow. The sheets were unmade, but didn't have anything hidden within them.

He climbed back down and faced where Matt, Nicky, and Kevin have crowded by the door, watching Andrew systematically pick apart the room. He clenched Neil’s keys in his hand and traced the ridges over and over.

“Neil Josten is right here,” He said, answering Matt's previous question, “Nathaniel Wesninski though? He is likely long gone by now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! also thank you to everyone who left kudos and comments on the last chapter! i'm super grateful and it was definitely the only thing motivating me to write this chapter.
> 
> right now it looks like this might end up being 4-5 chapters in total? but we'll see since i haven't planned what's going to happen after ch 3 yet lol


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! sorry, this update was later than expected. i went on vacation and did not finish this before i left and then i was overwhelmed by andriel week and continued to not write anything.
> 
> anyway, here it is! once again i could not get myself to edit it as much as i should have, sorry! hope you enjoy it regardless.

Here is what they did know. 

Neil left the roof on the Friday night. He had not been in their dorm when Andrew had made his way down. Andrew’s perfect memory couldn’t recall if his things had been disturbed in a way that indicated his presence in between, but Neil certainly hadn’t vanished yet. Matt had spoken with Dan and they couldn’t remember seeing him, but admitted that they had been pretty drunk by the time they had made it back to the tower. Allison and Renee had taken advantage of a break between their midterms to spend the weekend off campus together and hadn’t noticed anything strange before leaving. Unsurprisingly, the freshmen had no clue that anything had happened and little understanding of why there was such an intense reaction to Neil’s disappearance.

They knew that Nathaniel had left campus and was likely as far away from Palmetto as possible.

Although it wasn’t much to go on, Andrew was certain that it was not a premeditated decision. 

It was hard to tell though, Neil was thorough. He had carefully picked through his belongings and left behind all the Neil and erased Nathaniel from the dorm. 

Except.

His phone. And for once he had thought to bring his charger.

One thing that Andrew knew, too well maybe, was Neil's voicemail. The pause of uncertainty before he spoke. The toneless “Neil. Leave a message,” that was followed by a muffled “Was that good enough?” and Nicky's laughter in the background before the beep.

But there were so many things they didn't know.

They had never discussed much about Neil's life on the run. There were too many sore spots, hidden mines, areas of disagreement. They had tried, once. 

Andrew knew Neil like the back of his hand, but Nathaniel was a whole different story. There were blank spots in his history and motivations that made it too difficult to predict where he might have thought to run. Andrew had picked through his binder in his first year, but had never understood the pages filled with codes and had never demanded that Neil explain them to him. He didn't know how many contacts Nathaniel had with him, any identities still left to be used, or how many hidden stashes Mary had left behind.

Tuesday had been their first day of practice since the weekend, and nobody mentioned when Andrew didn’t bother to change out. He had pretended not to feel their stares, just as he had pretended that he hadn’t noticed the knives in their kitchen and razors in the bathroom disappearing. 

It was Wednesday afternoon now, meaning Nathaniel had been gone for almost three days, meaning he had therapy for the first time that week. It was also one of the first times he had left his room. Andrew had attended his morning lecture on Monday, but had skipped the rest of them, knowing it was pointless when all he could think about was Neil Neil Neil. In his first class he had opened his notebook and taken out a pen, but barely registered the professor beginning the lecture, only blinking into awareness by the sudden increase of noise when everyone began to pack up and leave. He had stared at the blank page in front of him for a second, before stuffing it into his bag and walking out. He hated this. The feeling of helplessness, the knowledge that there was nothing he could do to find Nathaniel. To find Neil. But most of all, he hated that he had done this to himself. He had let himself trust someone again, he had let himself hope for something good, and he had lost it.

Bee watched him, waiting. She was quiet, letting him brood in his own thoughts, except for the clink of her spoon against the side of her mug. When she was finished preparing the hot chocolate, she added marshmallows, handed him his mug and sat back down, still silent. He liked that about her, her ability to tell when he had something to say, her patience for him, even if he would never admit it out loud.

“Bee?” He finally said, voice rough from having not used it that day yet, “I think I really messed up this time.”

 

Andrew’s phone rang. It startled him awake from his fitful sleep and he scrambled to find the source of the vibrating in the darkness. He’s tempted to ignore it, but his heart was already pounding from adrenaline and he squinted to see his blindingly bright screen.

He was not stupid enough to be hopeful - it had been weeks with no contact - but he couldn’t think of anyone who would have a reason to call at five in the morning. Maybe this was why, when he recognized the number, he jolted upright and clicked answer. He had deleted the name from his contact list almost a month ago, certain that he no longer had a use for it. 

The call connected and at first there was only silence. Then, from a distance, the sound of a faint scuffle and a panicked “wait stop, I- no don’t please-” before it was muffled along with the click of a door closing.

Neil. Andrew stopped breathing for a moment. He had never really felt claustrophobic before, but the room seemed to be shrinking and expanding around him at a dizzying rate. Everything was too much and not enough. He felt keenly aware of a prickling sweat that had begun to gather at the back of his neck and the harsh thud of his heartbeat. His hand tightened around the plastic of his phone before he forced himself to relax his grip.

“Minyard,” said a calm voice. Andrew felt everything crash around him. He had never met the man on the other end of the line, but he could recognize the accent and he knew what it meant. What it meant for Nathaniel. What it meant for Neil, stupid Neil. 

“Yes,” he managed to get out.

“We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! special thanks to everyone who has left kudos, bookmarked this fic, and left comments!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> sometimes i exist on tumblr: @fallingin-like


End file.
